


Before

by asocialconstruct



Series: Basic [1]
Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Cain has some problems, Dubious Consent, First Time, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, dubcon, implied prostitution, mentions of domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series AU; Cain and Encke in basic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fifty

**Author's Note:**

> Sacha = Cain, Eight = Encke.

First day of basic was worse than he’d expected.  He’d expected it to be bad, but not this bad, fucking exhausted and no goddamn peace to just take a piss in the middle of the night.  Fucking Forty-six followed him in and wanted to start shit, so there wasn’t anything to do but punch the fucker.

Sacha bounced off the wall, caught off guard by a hit to the jaw.  Forty-six was taller, had the reach, but Sacha was seeing red and not about to spend the first night of basic running with his tail between his legs.  He threw himself at the asshole, trying to get under his guard until the door banged open and they were being pulled apart.

That big fucker Six went after Forty-six, spinning him with a hand on his shoulder, and Sacha got hauled back kicking by someone he couldn’t see.

“Fuck, this one doesn’t know how to quit,” the fucker said, dragging him back with his arms hooked in Sacha’s, tall enough to pull his feet off the floor.  Six punched Forty-six, dropping him to the concrete.  Poor bastard got kicked in the balls, groaning at Six’s feet.

“You assholes are done,” Six said, kicking Forty-six again.  “No more playground fights.”

“What the fuck do you care?” Sacha snapped at Six, trying to pull out of the pin hold he was in.  “Didn’t see anyone stop you when you kicked Ten’s teeth in this morning.”

“Because if Two catches you dumb shits fighting we’re all going to get laps, so the big boys learn how to not get caught,” the one holding him said in his ear.  “Next time find a smarter place for it til they send you back to the shithole you came from, you little cocksucker.”

Six gave Forty-six another kick in the side and laughed.  “You got that one, Eight?” Six asked, hauling the poor fucker up and throwing a glance back at the asshole holding Sacha. Six pushed Forty-six out the door in front of him.

“Yeah, got him,” Eight said, throwing Sacha away from him as the door closed, leaving them alone.

Sacha caught his balance, turning to throw himself at Eight too.  Not his fucking fault Forty-six was dumb enough to pick a fight in the middle of the night, Sacha wasn’t going to get his ass kicked just for standing up for himself.

Eight just caught his wrist before he could even get close, though, too fast for him.  “You’re a dumb little shit, but you got balls at least,” Eight said, twisting his arm behind his back.  “You’re not gonna last long if you keep throwing punches without knowing how to duck them, Fifty.”

Fuck.  Eight just stood there behind him again, his other hand on Sacha’s shoulder with just enough pressure to make him know it could hurt worse.  Eight knew what the fuck he was doing; Sacha only knew he had to get off the bottom of the rankings so he wouldn’t get washed out and laughed at when he crawled back to his sister’s, or worse, their father’s.  Had to at least get out of the bottom ten so he wouldn’t get cut, had to prove to everyone at home that he wasn’t just a fucking waste.  

He’d gotten on his knees for worse reasons, he could get through basic if he could just hang on to someone like Eight for long enough to get out of the bottom ten and figure out where to go from there.

“So teach me,” Sacha said through gritted teeth, not about to let the bastard know how much it fucking hurt.  Or that he was getting hard with Eight’s hips pressed up against his ass.

Eight laughed, short and surprised and no kindness in it.  “No,” Eight said, pushing him away stumbling again.  “Don’t got time for gypsy trash.  You got knocked down to Fifty because that’s where you’re gonna stay.”

Sacha glared at him, trying not to rub at his wrist.  “Not for long.  Gonna get out of here at the top,” he said, even though he didn’t believe it.  Eight laughed at him again, the fucker.

“Only if you don’t get yourself killed first, baby.  But you don’t got anything I want, I got no reason to help you.  You’re on your own,” Eight said, and turned to go.

“Then fuck me,” Sacha said to his back, and Eight stopped.  “Fuck me and teach me how fight, that’s the deal Six and Forty made, isn’t it?”  Six had picked Forty, not the other way around, but it didn’t fucking matter as long as Sacha got what he wanted out of it.

Eight turned around then, looking Sacha up and down, Eight weighing him up like he was just going to beat the shit out of him anyway.  He watched Eight take a step back towards him and another, determined to not back down until Eight was standing right on top of him and this didn’t seem like such a fucking great idea after all.

He should have expected it when Eight twisted him around by the arm again, shoving him face first against the wall, and then he knew it wasn’t a good idea at all, but then it was too late.

“You want to get fucked, baby?  Why don’t you just wash out and run back home, easier for everyone that way,” Eight murmured against Sacha’s ear, leaning into him.  Hard already, though, Sacha could tell that, grinding against him, and Sacha felt his own cock twitch at the thought.

It was a stupid fucking idea, but it was that or get the shit beaten out of him every fucking day and every fucking night until they sent him home to die slow instead of fast.

“Not going back.  You gonna do it or not?” Sacha spat, needing it but not about to beg for it.  

Eight let his wrist go, running a hand down his arm.  “You done this before, sweetheart?  Basic ain’t kind to virgins.”

“Yeah,” Sacha lied, even though he’d only fucked around in school.  Blowjobs weren’t sex, they were just a thing you did to get what you wanted, but better to have it over with and with someone he picked instead of waiting for it to happen like Forty-nine had.  Sacha wasn’t going to end up like that poor bastard, passed around and laughed at and bloody on the first day already.

Eight laughed at him, leaning down to trail his mouth along the back of Sacha’s neck, making him get harder even if he was scared, or maybe he was hard because he was scared.  “You’re a fucking liar,” Eight murmured against his neck, and Sacha stiffened, but Eight started undoing his belt.  “You sure about this, baby?”

“Yes, fuck, just get it over with.”

Eight leaned into him, hands on Sacha’s waist.  “You sure?  No going back on this, sweetheart.  Once I do it, you’re gonna get what you want, whether you still want it or not.”

Sacha glared back at him.  “Who the fuck are you, my dad?  Just do it.”

Eight turned Sacha to face him with a half smile, pulling him away from the wall so Eight could lean against it.  “You’re a crazy little fucker.  Get on your knees, it’ll make it easier,” he said, pushing Sacha down.

Even if it put off the inevitable, at least this was familiar.  Eight pulled his cock out, only half hard, but Sacha knew what to do about that.  Sacha got him up with a couple light strokes and then swallowed him, ready to get this shit over with as fast as possible and trying not to be grateful that Eight didn’t want to drag it out either.

Sacha tried to get him slicked good, not looking forward to being fucked with no lube but his own spit, but there wasn’t anything else and it would happen sooner or later anyway, the longer he stayed on the bottom of the rankings.  So he tried to concentrate on getting Eight close, so it wouldn’t last too long.

“Fuck, you’ve done this before,” Eight breathed, tilting his head back against the wall.  Sacha looked up at him, getting harder himself as he watched Eight’s lips part.  Could have just gotten him off then if Eight had let him, and maybe that would have been enough.

But Eight pulled him up by the shoulder, breathing hard.  “That’s enough.  Get up, let’s get this over with,” he said, pushing Sacha down over one of the sinks.  Worst fucking place for it, since Sacha couldn’t not catch a look at Eight coming up behind him in the mirror before he put his head down and just let it happen.

It was hard and fast, just cold air and hot pain and Sacha tried not to think about it, biting the back of his hand while Eight got it over with.  Tried to tell himself it was better this way because he’d asked for it instead of waiting for it to happen, but that didn’t help any when Eight reached down to stroke Sacha’s hard cock.  

Sacha got off on it like a cheap whore, the pain and his hard cock crossing wires in his head as he tried to concentrate on just getting it over with.  Eight didn’t last long after, pulling out right away and wiping his hand on the hem of Sacha’s shirt.  Sacha let himself be pulled back together as Eight pulled him back up standing, his knees a little shaky from it.  

He leaned against the sink, better that than cling to Eight.

“It’ll be better next time, baby,” Eight said, and suddenly they were kissing, Eight’s mouth covering his and trapping him.  Pushed his mouth open warm and slow, and it was worse than being fucked because it didn’t hurt and Sacha could almost think he wanted it.

He pushed Eight away and punched the fucker in the mouth.  If they were going to do this, there was no point in making it anything other than what it was.  

Eight stared at him, bringing hand up to press at his swelling lip.  Then he backhanded Sacha against the wall.

Sacha bounced back at him, but Eight caught him by the shirt and pressed him hard against the wall, Eight’s fist on his chest crushing the air out of him.  “You get a free pass this time, sweetheart,” Eight said, leaning in to put his mouth next to Sacha’s ear, “but you’re done now.  You do what I tell you or you’re on your own again.  You understand me?”

“Fuck you.”

“Other way around, baby.  You understand me or not?” Eight said.  

No getting out of it now.  Sacha nodded tightly.

“Good.  Go get some sleep and we’ll work on your shitty left hook in the morning.”


	2. Forty-Seven

Eight wasn’t so bad.  Could have been worse, could have given him a black eye every time Sacha fucked up and couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, like Six did with Forty.  But Eight pulled his punches until Sacha got faster, even let him land a couple hits and showed him how to punch harder.

Didn’t mean Sacha liked any of it, didn’t mean that he liked having Eight try to make it something it wasn’t, like they were friends and Eight was doing this out of charity instead of just fucking him.  It was just a deal, just to get both of them what they wanted, there wasn’t any kindness or enjoying in it.  Sacha avoided him when he could, waiting for Eight to come find him at mess to throw punches or pull him out of peeling potatoes for a quick fuck.

Couldn’t avoid him when Eight bailed his ass out, though, Eight hauling Twenty off him at lunch and punching the fucker in the face while Sacha caught his breath.  

 _You okay, baby?_  

Like Eight gave a fuck, like he cared about anything after besides dragging Sacha off to the empty barracks to fuck.  Like it fucking mattered how Sacha felt because here he was straddling Eight getting fucked, Eight’s hands on him even though Twenty had given him a black eye that was already starting to swell shut.

Sacha swallowed and tried not to show how badly he was shaking, but it just fucking hurt.  At least last time it had been so fast he didn’t have time to think about how much it hurt until it was over, but Eight was making him take it slow this time.  Eight lay back and let Sacha do the work, leaving him exposed where Eight could see all of him.  At least the other way he hadn’t had to think about Eight watching him bite his lip and try not to cry with how bad it hurt.

“Shh, baby, take your time,” Eight said, smoothing a rough hand down his thigh.  Sacha took a breath and tried to calm himself down, easing into Eight’s hands on his shoulders and his waist.  

He was just so fucking sore and tired from pushups that morning, Two pressing his boot into the middle of his back, his mouth still tasting dirty where his face has been pressed into the mud and his arms burning.  Sore and tired from fighting his way up from Fifty, his hands and his jaw and his face pounding where Twenty had gotten him.  But Eight wanted it this way, and he’d kept Sacha from having his ass kicked, so Sacha would just get through with it.  

Eight murmured something, watching him with his eyes half closed as Sacha tried to get a rhythm, but he was shaky and kept stopping, sweating with the pain of it and Eight watching him.  Eight caught him by the wrist, and Sacha almost thanked him when he thought Eight was going to push him off and roll him over.  

But Eight kissed the inside of his wrist, his lips warm and too soft to cut through how badly Sacha ached everywhere else, and then Eight slicked Sacha’s palm and pushed his hand down to wrap around his own cock.

Sacha ground his teeth and closed his eyes to keep from blushing like a fucking fairy, embarrassed with Eight watching him jerk himself off and now Eight’s hands back on his ass.  Eight brought his knees up and started fucking him, holding Sacha’s ass in place and he just had to ride it out, trying to make himself get off on this.

He’d only been half hard from this to start with, but he couldn’t keep it up with Eight watching him and fucking him harder, so he stopped trying.  He squeezed his eyes shut and let Eight fuck him, leaning down to put a hand next to Eight so he could hang his head and not worry about Eight seeing his face.  But Eight dragged his other hand back to his cock, and started to jerk Sacha off himself when Sacha took his hand away.  He tried to concentrate on getting hard again, but it was just too much with how bad it hurt and Eight going faster as he got close.  So Sacha just tried to hold still and let him finish so they wouldn’t have to do this all over if Sacha kept Eight from getting off.

And then Eight dragged Sacha down against him as he came, holding Sacha too tight and giving him two more shaky thrusts to drag it out, Eight pressing his nose into Sacha’s hair and his lips to Sacha’s ear and his breath too warm.  

Sacha pulled away from him as soon as Eight was done, his thighs aching.  He tried to lie down next to Eight, only to be pushed away.  Eight made him roll over and lie on his side, and Sacha wanted to snap at him that twice in a row wasn’t part of the deal, but kept his mouth shut because without Eight he’d be on his own again and fuck knew what Two would do with him then.  

So he just took a shaky breath and turned his face down as Eight put an arm around his chest, waiting for Eight to press into him again.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay, it always hurts the first few times, it’ll get better,” Eight said, brushing his hand down Sacha’s side to his leg.  Eight pressed his lips to the back of Sacha’s neck, tracing his fingers out over Sacha’s shaky thigh.  

Then Eight’s hand was on his cock again, and Sacha felt himself get hard in his hand, not so bad now with just dull soreness instead of the burning ache from being fucked.  He ground his jaw and tried to concentrate on Eight’s hand and his warm mouth instead of the dull pain in his whole body.

“Come on, baby, I know you want it,” Eight murmured against him, and Sacha tried to want it this way, tried to let this be good enough because he couldn’t ask for anything else from Eight.  It was too hard, Eight’s hand callused and dry and too tight, but it was good enough, and Sacha got off from it anyway, so he ground his jaw and didn’t whine because it was better than nothing.

At least once he came Eight finally let him be done, wiping his hand on Sacha’s uniform tangled up under them and pulling Sacha to him.  They lay there like that for a minute, and that was almost worth the rest of it with Eight breathing lazily against his shoulder.  Sacha wanted to roll over and press his face into Eight’s neck to just sleep without worrying about getting jumped, but Eight’s arm was heavy over him.  And he was just too tired to move until Eight gave his thigh a light slap.

“You should get out of here, Fifty, almost time for you to get your ass chewed out for peeling potatoes wrong.  How much longer did Two put you on PT for?”

“Forty-seven,” Sacha said quietly, needing Eight to know it.

“What, baby?” Eight mumbled against his shoulder.

“It’s Forty-seven now.  I moved up.”

Eight laughed, chuckling as he dragged lips along the back of Sacha’s neck.  “Whatever you say, baby.  You’re going up pretty quick, won’t be able to keep track of you til you make it all the way up to Six.  But you should get out of here before Two busts you back down to Fifty.”  

Eight pushed him away then, giving Sacha a slap on the ass and a smile as he stood and pulled on pants.  Sacha watched Eight get dressed, hoping he was right that it wouldn’t hurt so much later.  When they were both dressed, Eight pushed him against the wall to kiss, hard and bruising and fast before Eight leaned down to bite his ear.  

He pushed Sacha out in front of him then and turned away to go shoot the shit with the rest of the low numbers who didn’t have their asses ridden for every fucking thing as Sacha left to go peel potatoes.  

“See you later, Fifty,” Eight called back over his shoulder.


	3. Forty-Four

Eight could have been better.  Or, Eight was fine, but it was all the other assholes Sacha had to get on his knees for because Eight said so, even though that hadn’t been part of the deal.  The deal had been to keep from getting passed around like Forty-nine.  

Who was Fifty now, not looking at anyone and due to wash out because he didn’t put up a fight anymore for anyone.  Sacha thought about fucking him, just to see what it was like, just to see why everyone else got off on it while he was stuck feeling achy and sore most days.  But Sacha had just clawed his way out of the bottom five guaranteed to get cut; with his luck Forty-nine would decide to put up a fight and Sacha would just be back down where he’d started.

So he did what Eight told him and blew who Eight told him, just letting it happen and trying not to think about it.  He’d sucked plenty of cock for plenty of reasons; for money to get his sister to the clinic after she got knocked up; for a place to stay that wasn’t the foster home; for barely enough liquor to get wasted on.  

He could suck cock, it just wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal to do it for anyone but Eight.

But Eight had favors to return, and said that it was time for Sacha to pull his weight and do some favors.  Sacha had thought the fucking was the favor, had thought that getting fucked by just Eight was supposed to be good enough, but Eight said that if he did it once he wouldn’t have to do it again.

Eight said that the second and third time he made Sacha do it too, but Six covered Eight’s ass, and told Eight how it was going to be, so neither of them had a choice in it.  If Eight didn’t have Six backing him up, he’d slide down the rankings and take Sacha with him.  He’d gotten fucked by Eight to get off the bottom; he could suck a couple cocks to keep from going back there.

There were two of them this time, or maybe three, didn’t really matter because all cock tasted the same.  Eight had said it would only be Six, but then Nine and Eleven showed up too.  Sacha choked on one of them, Six or Nine or even Eight, didn’t really matter, he just had to get the fucker off as fast as possible so Eight would let him be done.

He gagged as the asshole finally came, still not used to doing this for anyone but Eight, and he couldn’t swallow quick enough to keep from getting come on his face and his jacket.  One of the other fuckers laughed as this one jerked Sacha’s head back by the hair so he could finish coming over Sacha’s face, and then it didn’t matter anyway whether he could swallow or not.  

But at least it was done, and Sacha sat back to get his breath as the last one tucked himself away, the other ones murmuring something to Eight as they started to leave.  Sacha ground his jaw and didn’t look at anyone as he sat there, his face hot.

“Come on,” Eight said, helping him up, gathering him up.  “Come on, Fifty.  It’s done, let’s get you out of here.” 

Sacha let himself be pulled up, leaning against Eight, his jaw and his knees aching.  He didn’t correct Eight, even though he was Forty-four now, because Eight had just laughed at him last time.  “Was that—was that good enough?” he said instead, coughing, his throat raw from being forced to swallow.  

Eight pressed him against his chest, blunt fingers stroking the back of his neck, making Sacha’s scalp tingle where one of the fuckers had pulled his hair too hard.  “Yeah, baby, you did good.”

Sacha turned his face up for a kiss, needing Eight’s mouth on him even if his neck ached and his mouth felt bruised and mashed already.  Eight turned his face away, though, pushing him away.  Sacha swallowed against the bitter taste of come in his mouth and let Eight pull him out of the room.

Eight wouldn’t kiss him, pushing him away when they were back in the empty barracks and Sacha tried again.  But he did push Sacha down on his knees and let him blow him, so that was good enough.  Eight stroked his hair and didn’t pull, gentle after having his nose crushed and being gagged by those other fuckers.  Sacha tried to drag it out, to show Eight he could do it better just for him.  

Tried to tell himself that if he did good enough, Eight wouldn’t make him blow anyone else again.

Eight held Sacha’s head down as he came, though, and it was all he could do to just swallow and try not to let Eight feel him gag too badly.  Eight pulled him up to lay against his chest afterwards but didn’t try to get him off.  No time for it anyway, just a few minutes before they had to be out for drill.  Sacha hadn’t gotten hard from any of it, but Eight still wouldn’t even kiss him.  No time to get a drink of water before drill, so Sacha did pushups in the drizzling rain, Two barking at him and the taste of Eight and the rest of them mixed together bitter in his mouth.

This wasn’t the fucking deal he’d signed up for, but then neither was the military.  Sacha couldn’t decide if not getting sent back was worth this, but pushed that thought away because there was nothing and no one to go back to anyway.


	4. Forty

Eight came in while Sacha was polishing Two’s boots in the empty barracks, thinking about how much better they’d smell if he just pissed in them.  He should have kept his fucking mouth shut the first day, but what the fuck else was he supposed to do when the sergeant called him a gypsy whore’s bastard.  Still worth it though.

“Come on, baby, get your bag packed, I got us passes for leave this week,” Eight said, flipping open Sacha’s mostly-empty footlocker.

Sacha frowned, but he didn’t put the boot down.  He had shit to get done so Two wouldn’t chew him out and make him do more pushups.  And except for the bottle of vodka he’d blown Fifteen for, there wasn’t anything in his footlocker that mattered enough to hide from Eight anyway.  “Why?” Sacha asked, watching Eight pull his duffel out, starting to stuff clothes into it.

“Because it’ll be a good time.  I’m renting us a car and everything.  Come on, get your shit, we can leave as soon as we’re ready, I got it all planned out.”

“Who’s us?” Sacha asked suspiciously, not interested in getting dragged off and passed around by Six and Eleven and Eight all together for a whole week.

“Fuck, you and me, Fifty,” Eight said, even though he knew it was Forty now.  Sacha had just stopped trying to correct him.  Not worth getting laughed at every time.

“Just you and me.”

“ _Yes_ , you going deaf from Two chewing you out too much?  Maybe if you spent more time doing what you were told and less time picking fights he wouldn’t ride your ass so hard.”  Like Eight was one to talk, he’d gone from Twenty to Eight their first week and stayed there because he picked fights all the time.  But he always won, and Sacha didn’t.

“Fuck you,” Sacha mumbled.

“The fuck is this?” Eight said, holding up the book Natasha had given him when he left, the tattered copy she’d read to him after babushka kicked them out.

Sacha finally put the boot down and got up to take it from him.  “Nothing, just a book my sister gave me,” he said, reaching for it. 

“Anna Karenina,” Eight sounded out, keeping it away from him for just a second before giving it back.  Sacha tucked it back down safe next to the bottle of vodka and started to pull out changes of clothes to put in his duffel.  “Any good?” Eight asked, laying back on Sacha’s bunk.  He kicked his dirty boots up on the blanket so Sacha would have to remake the bed before they left, in order to not have Two pull his leave at the last second.

“Don’t know, never read it,” Sacha lied, even though they’d sat in foster homes and shelters and read it backwards and forwards together until his sister got her own shitty apartment.  “Just something my sister gave me for the trip here.”

Eight tossed a pair of Sacha’s socks up and down, toss and catch, thoughtful.  “Never knew you had a sister,” he said.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me,” Sacha mumbled, putting an extra couple shirts in his bag, trying to lay them in neatly so they wouldn’t wrinkle.  Even if Eight knew exactly enough about him to make him come panting hard, Eight didn’t know anything about him.

Eight sat up then, tossing the socks at him, and Sacha got hit in the side of the face with them because he wasn’t a fast enough catch.  He glared as Eight came around the bed to grab the book out of his footlocker and stuff it in Sacha’s bag.  “Guess I don’t, but maybe we’ll have to fix that.  Come on, baby, you don’t need that many clothes, not like you’re going to be wearing much anyway,” Eight said, and pulled him out of the barracks.

 

* * *

 

 

Eight had gotten a car, and it was just them.  Sacha didn’t really pay attention to where Eight drove, just glad to have the camp and Two’s ugly face behind him.  No fucking pushups and no potatoes to peel for an entire week was the best fucking news he’d gotten since getting his orders to ship out for basic, even if it meant getting fucked by Eight every night for a week.  Eight wasn’t so bad.  He could have been a bastard like Six, and the last couple times hadn’t been so bad as the first few.

They sat on the one bed at the hotel that night eating greasy takeout, the place small and dingy but clean.  Eight seemed pretty fucking pleased with himself, buying a case of beer as they drove into town and spreading out the map on the bed as soon as they got there.  Sacha kicked his boots off and just started in on the food, letting Eight go on about fucking waterfalls and museums.  

Didn’t fucking matter what they did during the day if Eight had only dragged him along to have someone to fuck at night.

At least Eight let him eat in peace, and opened a second beer for him when Sacha finished his first, even though Eight was only half done with his and still going on about bridges or some fuck to go see.  

Sacha was getting his clothes for the next day laid out while Eight finished his food, trying to stay out of Eight’s space but there was no room for it.  Eight drank his beer and watched Sacha refold all the clothes Eight had just stuffed in there, wrinkled and balled up.  

And then the fucking book.  He had to take it out to get the rest of his clothes out to fold, but there was no place safe for it.  He held it in his hand for a second, thinking, until he realized Eight was holding his hand out for it.

Sacha hesitated, but gave it to him.  It was just a book, didn’t mean anything.  He finished folding his clothes as Eight flipped through it.

“Who’s this?  Girlfriend?” Eight asked after a while, and Sacha looked back to see him looking down at a photo of a girl caught between pages.  Eight picked it up, looking at it, turning it back and forth in the light.

“Fuck you, give it back.  It’s no one,” Sacha said, snatching it back as Eight held it out.

“Calm the fuck down, baby, I was only teasing,” Eight said.  “She’s pretty, you write to her?”

Sacha frowned down at it, wishing he’d left it at his sister’s place with the picture of their mother, but Natasha had snuck it into the book and now he had to keep it safe.  “Just fuck off, she’s not a girlfriend, just my sister.”

“The one that gave you this,” Eight said, holding out the book.

He glared up at Eight then, looking for the asshole to laugh at him, but Eight just watched him with his appraising look.  Measuring, like when he weighed someone up for a fight.  “Yeah,” Sacha admitted finally, taking the book back from Eight.  He slipped the photo back in it and put it back safe in his bag, hoping Eight would just drop it.

He’d almost thought Eight would drop it, letting Sacha settle back next to him on the bed and drink in silence for a little bit, Eight finishing his dinner and clearing the takeout containers away.  Came back to the bed and started clearing the maps away while Sacha sat there, because what the hell else did they have to do together besides fuck.

“You got her address?” Eight asked, sitting back down.  “We’ll make sure to grab some postcards for her tomorrow.  Get one for your momma too.”

“Don’t need any fucking postcards,” Sacha mumbled, taking a swig of his beer.  Stared at the grey carpet and wished Eight would just fuck him and get it over with.

“Fifty, you are never going to make it out of basic if you don’t quit mumbling and getting offended over everything,” Eight said, taking a slow swipe at his head, scuffing Sacha’s hair.  “We’ll get your momma a postcard tomorrow and maybe you can lighten the fuck up.”

“Just leave it,” Sacha snapped, his face getting hot.  “My mother doesn’t need a fucking postcard, she’s fucking dead.”

Eight stared at him, and Sacha closed his eyes and turned his face away so it wouldn’t hurt so much when he got slapped.

“What happened to her?” Eight asked after a while.  No slap.  Sacha looked back at him out of the corner of his eye.

Eight just watched him, leaning back against the headboard, drinking his beer.

“She, uh,” Sacha started, glancing down and swallowing against how tight his throat suddenly felt.  He’d never told anyone this.  Never even talked about it with his sister after she’d told him, not with their grandmother, not with the social worker.  “She fell down the stairs,” he finally managed.

“People don’t die from falling down the stairs, baby,” Eight said, and Sacha couldn’t tell what he meant, so he took another drink of his beer, maybe too much.  He felt lightheaded and too warm, not sure what Eight wanted from him with this.

But Eight just watched him, just waited, didn’t say anything, so Sacha said it.  No reason not to; didn’t mean anything to him anymore, not a part of his life anymore even if his throat hurt just talking about it.  “She was pregnant, she bled out.  Sister found her after school.”

“No one home when it happened?”

“Our dad.”

Eight let that hang there for a while, taking a drink of his beer and watching Sacha.  He didn’t say anything and Sacha looked away, tracing out the blotchy flowers on the bedspread, faded pinks and ugly greens washed out ten years ago.  

“That’s pretty fucked up,” Eight said after a while.  “Your sister still there?”

“Had her own place for a while.  Lives with a boyfriend sometimes, when she doesn’t have any money.  Don’t know where now.”

Eight pulled Sacha towards him then, putting an arm around his shoulders.  Sacha didn’t say anything, swore he wouldn’t cry this time when Eight fucked him, even if he sat there huddled up against Eight while they finished their beers in silence.

He let Eight push his jacket off him after a while and leaned into him after Eight got them both undressed, but Eight just pushed him away when he tried to kiss.  

Not one of those times, just fast and rough tonight.  

Sacha took a couple deep breaths as Eight leaned over him to turn the lights out, trying to swallow away the knot in his throat so he wouldn’t choke later.  Eight hated when he gagged even if some of the other bastards fucking loved it.

Eight lay back down and let Sacha lean over him to put his mouth and hand on Eight’s thigh, even if he couldn’t make himself suck cock yet, his mouth too dry.  Eight just watched him in the half dark of the yellow light slanting in from the parking lot, watched Sacha make himself work up to it.

Eight put a hand on Sacha’s cheek, making Sacha look up at him, and he realized how hot his face was.  “Baby, you don’t have to,” Eight said, rubbing his thumb over Sacha’s dry lips.

Sacha swallowed, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong, if he’d gone too slow, wondering if Eight would just get rid of him as soon as they got back for ruining the week of leave with whining.  “You don’t want me to?” Sacha asked, his voice rough.  Not sure what else Eight would want from him.

“No, baby, just lie down,” Eight said.  He pulled Sacha up against him, wrapping an arm around him as Sacha lay against his chest.  Eight didn’t say anything else, just traced circles on Sacha’s back with his fingers.  He fell asleep after a while, so Sacha figured it must be alright for him to sleep too.  Even if it was the first time they’d been in a bed together and just slept instead of fucked.


	5. Forty

Eight hauled him out of bed too early the next morning, two hours later than they would have had drill but still too fucking early if this was supposed to be leave.  Sacha just glared at him over the shitty hotel coffee Eight brought up from the lobby and let Eight push him out the door to the car.

Didn’t know why they had to get up so fucking early just for Eight to pull into a little shopping center before they even left town.

“Wait here,” Eight said, bounding out of the car.  Sacha slouched in his seat and glared after him, the sun too bright and Eight too fucking happy about this whole fucking thing.  Watched him swing into a drugstore and come out with nothing, then a liquor store and a tobacco shop.  Eight came back to the car with cartons of cigarettes, five or six, throwing them in the back of the car as he got in.  He set a paper bag with a couple handles of liquor next to them.

“What the fuck is all that for?” Sacha asked, looking back at the bags.  The liquor they’d drink, but no way Eight could smoke all that by himself.  

“Six,” Eight said, turning over the engine.

“Oh.”  Sacha crossed his arms and looked at his boots as Eight put the car in gear and backed it out.  Eight wasn’t ever so bad by himself, but he let Six push him around too much.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that, Fifty, it’s get him smokes or have you blow him again, it’s all the same to him.  If you’d rather just spend the rest of basic on your knees, you could have said so and saved all my money.”

Sacha flushed but glared out the window.  “Fuck you.”

“Later, baby.  Now quit your bitching and light me a smoke.  Put a couple packs in your bag if you want any.”

“Don’t smoke,” Sacha said, opening a pack and pushing in the car’s cigarette lighter.  He took a couple puffs on Eight’s cigarette as he got it lit, though, only barely managing to not cough.  Eight watched him out of the corner of his eye as he drove, but didn’t say anything.

Sacha passed him the cigarette and watched him smoke, the smell of it filling the car even though Eight tried to hang it out the window.  He was a little buzzed from his couple of puffs, just enough to take the edge off everything and make Eight’s little vacation seem like not such a fucking bad idea in the first place.  

Would have been good to have something to dull the harsh edges the first couple weeks of basic.

Sacha kicked his feet up on the dash and pulled another cigarette out of the open pack.  “Not too fast at first, baby,” Eight said, and Sacha glared at him, determined not to cough now.  Eight didn’t laugh or say anything else, though, just watched Sacha and the road as Sacha smoked slow and finally ground out the cigarette halfway through because he was starting to feel green.

So he kicked back in the passenger seat and dozed, catching up on all the sleep he’d been missing the first few weeks of basic, rolled out of bed too early for drill or not able to sleep from being too sore from pushups and fights and being fucked.  Too tired to care when he woke up a couple times with Eight’s arm across the back of his seat or Eight’s hand resting on his thigh.  Didn’t matter as long as Eight let him sleep.  Eight wasn’t so bad on his own.

Sacha woke up with Eight’s hand still warm on his thigh, sometime around midmorning, still driving, still in the middle of fucking nowhere, winding roads and and too many trees and fucking hills.  He got another cigarette lit just for something to do, this one not so rough as the first.  

Didn’t make it very far into this one either, though, Eight giving him a look sideways and pulling off into a scenic overlook.  Sacha smoked as Eight pulled down a short drive, parking in an empty gravel lot barely visible from the road.

Sacha just watched him come around the car and open the passenger door, letting himself be pulled out.  Eight pushed him towards the overlook, just a bunch of fucking trees down a valley and some clouds, pulling Sacha’s cigarette out of his mouth and grinding it out.  Asshole just smiled at Sacha’s glare and spun them around, putting his arm over Sacha’s shoulders and fishing a little disposable camera out of his pocket.

“Come on, baby, pretend like you got laid this morning,” Eight said, ducking in to kiss Sacha’s ear quick.  Sacha tried to glare at him but couldn’t help a half smile as Eight held the camera out in front of them and took a picture.  Sleeping for the first time in weeks was better than getting laid anyway.  “You just need to lighten up, Fifty, you take everything too serious,” Eight said, putting the camera away and walking them back to the car with his arm still over Sacha’s shoulders.

Eight reached past him to open the passenger door and Sacha caught him by the jacket.  Tilted his face up to kiss, just to see where they were, but Eight just nudged him away, leaning away from him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Sacha snapped, frustrated with getting dragged out to see waterfalls and passed around to Six and Eleven with no goddamn sense to it.  Either one he could have managed but not Eight switching back and forth when it suited him.  Eight grabbed for him, but Sacha pushed away from him.  “Why’d you drag me out for all this bullshit if I’m good enough to suck cock but not kiss?”

There was a tense silence as Eight looked him up and down, weighing how easy it would be to just deck him.  “You fucking punched me in the mouth the first time,” Eight said slowly, his hand on the door and looking at Sacha like he was an idiot.  “Thought you just wanted to get fucked without the rest of it, so I wasn’t going to make you do it if you didn’t want to.”

Sacha scowled at the ground, Eight glaring at him.  He hadn’t forgotten that, but he hadn’t expected Eight to care, not will all his little quick kisses and trying to make like they were friends.  “That was different,” Sacha said finally, dragging a hand through his hair so he wouldn’t have to look at Eight.

“Was it,” Eight said with a laugh, and Sacha would have glared at him if Eight didn’t catch him off guard, ducking in and forcing Sacha’s mouth open with a quick bite and hot tongue, his smell cutting through the cigarette smoke on both of them.

Eight pushed him hard back against the hood of the car then, glancing up at the drive down to the overlook once before he spun Sacha and put a hand on his shoulder to bend him over.

“Fuck, out here?  What if someone—“

Eight cut him off with a rough hand down his pants and hot tongue on his ear.  “Quit your bitching and we’ll do it quick.  It’ll be different this time,” Eight said, and started tugging Sacha’s pants down.  

There was a hurried pause as Eight pinned him up against the car with one knee, fishing something out of his pocket as Sacha looked in the direction of the road.  Anyone would have to turn into the overlook to see them, but as soon as they did they’d get a fucking show.

Sacha had just opened his mouth to tell Eight to hurry the fuck up when he was cut off with cold, slick fingers pushed into him, warm air on bare skin making his skin prickle as Eight worked his fingers in and out.  Barely any time to think about it though, the cold lube warmed up with Eight’s fingers replaced by his cock.

And, fuck, was it different this time, Eight easing into him slow and smooth, hot pressure but no pain.  Sacha arched his back into it, his cock getting harder the deeper Eight pushed.  

He could hear Eight’s breathing over the wind in the trees, quicker as Sacha pushed back against him to do this faster, Eight’s blunt fingers digging into his thighs.  

Eight pulled out of him suddenly, leaving him cold and empty, but only for a second because Eight picked him up and spun him, flipping Sacha on his back and pushing back into him in one motion.  Sacha bit his lip to keep from making a noise, not that there was much of a point in trying to keep from getting caught out here where anyone who drove up could see.  

His hands twitched, wanting to grab after Eight and pull him closer, or jerk himself off so it wouldn’t look like he was getting off just from being fucked, but he couldn’t do either, too aware of Eight watching him laid out on his back.  First time there hadn’t been any pain, just long slow strokes making his cock throb harder every time.

“Do it,” Eight breathed, and Sacha finally opened his eyes to Eight leaning over him.  “Come on, baby, make yourself come for me.”  Sacha ground his teeth but he did it, so close anyway but laid out open and exposed.  Eight slid in and out of him lazily, breathing slow and looking down to see himself fucking Sacha.

Eight teased him with it, speeding up as Sacha did, so that if he wanted to get fucked harder he had to stroke himself faster.  He was finally so close he couldn’t fucking care, though, spread open wider every stroke with his head tilted back on the warm car hood as he came, Eight pressing his knees down to fuck him harder.  

Sacha shuddered as Eight finally came into him with a sharp gasp, silhouetted against the sky as he leaned over Sacha, the hot pulsing as he came making Sacha shudder again.  He closed his eyes as Eight pulled out of him, trying to catch his breath.

“You okay, Fifty?  That too rough?”

“What?” Sacha asked, still floating somewhere.  Eight leaned over him, frowning.

“I said, you okay?”

Sacha didn’t say anything, just reached up to pull Eight down to him.  Eight was stiff at first but eased into it, letting Sacha push his tongue into Eight’s mouth, feeling clumsy and stupid.

“That was pretty good,” Sacha breathed after, not caring that Eight laughed as he pulled him up because they were kissing again and it was too good to care.  Eight put them both back together as Sacha leaned against him, biting Eight’s lip when he tried to pull away and getting a slap on the ass as Eight pushed him to the car.

Sacha slept that off as Eight pulled the car back to the road, smoking when he woke up and watching Eight drive.  

They fucked again as soon as Eight got them checked into the hotel, Sacha pushing him up against the door as it closed, Eight biting his ear as he pushed Sacha’s clothes off him.  

They would have fucked up against the wall, right next to the open window, Sacha practically moaning for it already if Eight hadn’t thrown him on the bed.  Took too fucking long to close the curtains, Sacha stripped naked and pawing through Eight’s jacket for the lube until Eight came back and did it for him.  It was fast and rough, Eight giving him bruising finger marks on his thighs as Sacha rode him and liked it, but the only soreness was in his thighs and back after as he collapsed over Eight, like after a good run.

He was most of the way to sleep when he realized Eight had fished the camera out again.  Eight held the camera up above them, Sacha twisting sleepily against him.

“Hope you’re happy, that’ll just be a picture of your ass since you bumped me,” Eight said, pushing him off.  Sacha pushed himself up just enough to see how pissed Eight was, but just got one of Eight’s sideways half smiles instead.  He sat up and leaned against the headboard as Eight poured a couple fingers of shitty whiskey into a plastic hotel cup.

Sacha sighed, half asleep again and pleasantly boneless past the soreness.  

“Told you it’d get better,” Eight said, leaning back next to him.  Sacha punched him in the arm and took Eight’s whiskey from him, knocking it back.  

Eight laughed and poured them both more whiskey, and it was a pretty fucking good night.


	6. Twenty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chapter 4 of "Things Were Different"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/592329/chapters/1142959) is the Encke POV of this chapter.

Basic wasn’t so bad after that, another leave to Eight’s aunt’s place and a couple nights out getting drunk together, the only fast blowjobs Sacha had to do for Eight and for One.

Fucking One; Sacha should have kept his head down from the first day, but he went up through the listings fast after Eight’s little road trip and One called him in to talk about admirable ambition and goals and not getting sent back to the colonies and getting fucked over One’s desk.  

Eight had gotten rid of the problem with Six with his lousy fucking cigarettes, like a carton of smokes was worth the same as the fucking humiliation of being on his knees for all those assholes, but there wasn’t a fucking thing Eight could do about One even if Sacha ever told him.  At least with One there wasn’t anyone else watching.  At least if he didn’t tell Eight Sacha could pretend everything would work out later.

Eight told him to slow the fuck down and stop making waves on his way up, pissed that he had to fight to stay in the top ten as Sacha moved up.  But Eight didn’t know what it was like having to fight just to get off the bottom.  He bitched, but he’d sent fuckers to the hospital the first week of basic, and now he was a fucking hypocrite telling Sacha to pull his punches and stop trying to break noses and fingers.  If One was going to try to send him back to the colonies, Sacha would make Six first and take everyone else down with him no matter what Eight told him to do.  Eight had always had it easy, never any fucking problems in his life.

He was a good fuck though, despite the first couple of weeks, and if Sacha could make it to the top ten before the end of basic they had a chance of being assigned together.  That wouldn’t be so bad, have someone to fuck around with and watch his back from the start, if being stationed out there was anything like basic.

Eight didn’t have time to try to make like they were friends, busy with his own bullshit keeping Nine and Twelve from moving up.  But if they got assigned together things would be different.  Maybe more like leave, time to fuck without worrying about getting caught and not having to sneak around avoiding Eight after getting fucked by One.  

Getting assigned together could have been pretty good.  Could pretend like they were friends.  Pretend like there was anything between them besides a deal.

Sacha kept that part of it out of his mind and tried to concentrate on getting into the top ten so it would be a possibility.  Eight didn’t have time for anything but a quick fuck once in a while.  So Sacha made sure to get himself off when Eight wanted it, less embarrassed every time Eight saw him get off because Sacha got so fucking hard on the idea of making Eight do anything, even if it was on his knees.  Eight wanted something from him besides an empty mouth, even if he was annoyed lately that he had to work to keep his place and Sacha didn’t.

Eight found him in mess, finally in the top half just that morning.  Sacha watched him come in and head straight for him, not like when Eight caught his eye across a room for a quick blow.  He just sipped his coffee and watched Eight, though, because he looked pissed and Sacha wasn’t going to show he cared, not when he had Forty and Thirty-six looking at him across the table.  

Eight stopped behind them, pointing over their heads at him.  “Fifty.  Get your ass up,” he snapped.  

Sacha ground his teeth, looking back and forth from Forty to Thirty-Six, looking for either of them to say anything, but he stood up.  No reason to get his ass kicked here where everyone could see it.  If Eight had taught him how to fight, Eight knew all his blindspots and all his stumbles, and there was no fucking reason to let everyone else see all his weak spots laid bare so they could just drag him down again.  

He brushed past Eight without saying anything on the way to the door.  Bad idea to turn his back on Eight if he was pissed, but he wasn’t going to let everyone see him skulk after Eight like a dog either.

“Hope you wash your dick off with vodka after you’re done with him, Eight, never know where that one’s been,” Six called after them as Eight pushed him out the door, and it was a good fucking thing because Sacha would have had to go after every single fucking one of the bastards who laughed.

Sacha could feel Eight glaring a hole in his back as they walked in silence, Eight’s hand pushing him to an empty supply room.  “What the fuck did that mean?” Eight demanded, pushing Sacha against the wall as soon as the door closed.

“Nothing,” Sacha said, even though he knew exactly what Six meant.  “You said yourself Six is an asshole.”

Eight’s hand twisted his jacket.  “Well I just got my ass chewed out for sending Twenty to the hospital after you said he tried to fuck with you.”  Sacha tried to keep his breathing even.  “Now I hear from Eighteen that Twenty never fucking touched you.  Was that nothing too?”  Eight weighed him up, one hand on the wall next to Sacha’s head and the other pinning him against the wall, if the look Eight gave him wasn’t enough by itself.  Sacha took shallow breaths, Eight wound tight enough to deck him if he made a wrong move.

“No.  I told you what happened.”  Sacha hadn’t told him all of it, sure that Eight would beat the shit out of him instead of Twenty if he knew all of it, but now he wished he had.  

Too late, though, Eight would only accuse him of trying to get out of one lie with another if he told all of it now.  Sacha watched Eight take a couple of slow breaths, still weighing him.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Eight said finally.  “Have you ever said an honest thing in your miserable goddamn life?”

“The fuck does it matter if you heard what you wanted from Eighteen anyway?” 

Eight shook him against the wall.  “It matters because if we’re going to do this thing where I stick my neck out to keep your skinny ungrateful ass from getting beaten and fucked back to that shithole you crawled out of, I need to trust that every damn thing I hear come out of your mouth is the fucking truth when I decide to kill someone for it.  Any other little lies I should know about while I’m being generous?”

There was plenty he hadn’t told Eight about besides letting Twenty fuck him when he’d been cornered and couldn’t fight his way out of it.  The vodka he’d blown Fifteen for.  One.  But Eight had never asked, Sacha had never said anything about any of it, so those weren’t really lies and Eight didn’t need to know about any of it.  Not if he was listening to Eighteen and pissed off anyway.  Sacha shook his head.

“Good,” Eight said finally, his grip relaxing on Sacha’s jacket.  “Because you lie to me one more time and I’ll help Two send your skinny ass back to the colonies.  You hear me, Fifty?”

Sacha ground his teeth and stuck out his chin.  It hadn’t been Fifty for a long time, would never be Fifty again if he could do anything about it.  “It’s Twenty-five now,” he said.  Didn’t fucking care if Eight didn’t like it, Eight’s face going hard, Sacha wasn’t going to put up with that bullshit when he was in the top ten one step behind Eight.  

They looked at each other, Eight’s hands tightening on his jacket again.  Pissed at being defied or stood up to or afraid of being passed up, Sacha couldn’t quite tell.  “I don’t give a fuck,” Eight said slowly.  “Get on your knees, you need to remember what use your lying mouth is.”

Sacha felt his face go red, fighting to keep his hands from curling at his sides so Eight wouldn’t see them shake.  Eight wouldn’t make him do it; this was just a pissing contest to see which of them would blink first, and Sacha was done with being pushed around.  If they were going to get assigned together, he wouldn’t take getting pushed on his knees every time Eight decided Sacha had fucked up because that would happen too fucking often.

“No,” Sacha said finally.

Eight watched him, looked his face up and down.  Looked straight through him at all the stupid shit he’d ever done or said and saw exactly how to get Sacha on his knees.  “Fine,” Eight said with a shrug.  “Finish the rest of your fights on your own, Fifty, I’m done fucking gypsy trash.”  Eight pushed him away with a disgusted look, turning for the door.

Sacha made himself do it; he’d done worse, for worse reasons.  With Eight and Two out for him, he’d be sent back to the colonies in a box, if One didn’t send him there first.  Eight looked over his shoulder at the sound of Sacha’s knees cracking on the cold concrete floor.

They looked at each other, Sacha tilting his chin up to keep eye contact as Eight came back to him.  Just because he had to do this to keep Eight didn’t mean he had to like it.

Eight was rough, rougher than Six and Eleven had been, pulling on Sacha’s hair and not giving him any room to breath.  Yanked his head back and slapped him when Sacha’s teeth grazed his cock accidentally, like he had any control of it with Eight fucking his mouth too hard to think about anything except finishing him as fast as possible.

He swallowed as Eight came, his face throbbing from the slap.  Sacha closed his eyes and didn’t think about it until Eight was finally done and he dragged Sacha’s face up to look at him.  Sacha made himself open his eyes, even if he didn’t want to see the softer look Eight gave him.

“You going to be honest with me from now on, Fifty?” Eight asked, hand heavy on the back of Sacha’s neck.

Sacha wiped his mouth, swallowing back the bitter taste.  Eight didn’t move to let him up, just stood there now that he was dressed again and waited for an answer.  “Yeah,” Sacha lied, and Eight helped pull him up.


	7. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter runs concurrent with [Nothing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/500403).

They didn’t see much of each other after that, except to fuck and not talk, Sacha keeping his fucking mouth closed so Eight couldn’t throw anything he said back at him.  He made it to Nine without any of Eight’s fucking help, sending the old Nine to the hospital with four less teeth after all the times the fucker had seen him on his knees, and he’d kick in a couple more as soon as the asshole was walking again.  

Eight wouldn’t look at him, didn’t even fucking acknowledge it when he finally made it to the top ten.  _You got knocked down to Fifty because that’s where you’re gonna stay._ Just fucked him hard, no lube anymore, ignoring it if Sacha managed to get hard from it, neither of them saying anything about it.  Sacha got ignored and ignored Eight back, winning his own fights because it wasn’t worth the humiliation of getting on his knees to beg for Eight’s help.  

There was still Six and Two, though.  And One.  Not a fucking thing he could do about One, but there was only a few weeks left of basic anyway.  If he could keep his head down and keep Six or Two or One from fucking him over too badly he might still manage to get stationed with Eight somewhere and work things out.

Or he thought, until Eight caught him one morning, cutting him off as Sacha went to finally sit with the low numbers, everybody watching them as Eight stood in his way.  He could see Six smirking at the table behind Eight, the bastard enjoying the show.  

“Heard you moved up to Nine, baby.  Who’d you have to blow to do that?” Eight asked, his face dangerously blank as he stepped closer, the only thing between them Sacha’s tray.  “You’re not moving farther up,” Eight said when he wouldn’t answer.  “Get back where you belong and wait for me before drill if you know what’s good for you, _Fifty_ ,” he said, watching Sacha’s knuckles whiten against the tray.  Eight turned and left him standing there in the middle of the cafeteria, everybody watching to see if Sacha would do what he was told.  So he fucking left.  Didn’t eat, didn’t wait for Eight.  

He was fucking done with doing what he was told, and see how Eight liked it when he had to call Sacha Six.

* * *

Six and Seven knew what was up, always together now even though they hated each other because they had the good fucking sense to know Sacha would rather take them out than go against Eight.  One of them  alone he had a chance of taking down by himself, but not both together.

He thought he had a chance one night when he caught Six alone near the showers, out of the way and empty enough to jump him and move past Seven and Eight all at once.  But Two came out of the dark, both of them waiting for him.  They’d planned it out, laughing at how bloody they made him by the end of it, and Sacha sat there shaking alone in the showers after he pulled himself back together, planning out how he’d fucking kill Six.  Two he’d never be able to touch, not without getting sent to military prison for the rest of his fucking life, but if he could make it look like Six ended up on the wrong end of a fight, he’d get a reprimand and that was all.  

Things happened in basic.  Six’s own fault if he was asking to get killed.

And then there was Thirty.  Quiet as a fucking mouse, he came out of nowhere too with his little knife and his creepy voice like he’d been waiting forever for this.  Didn’t make a move on Sacha, though, even though he’d cut up all those assholes who’d tried to fuck him until everyone learned better.  Thirty had never gotten fucked, not so far as Sacha had heard, and if Sacha had had the good sense to think about it earlier, he’d have asked Thirty to teach him something instead of Eight.

Thirty stuck close to him after they started fucking, didn’t put up a fight to keep from getting fucked even though Sacha obviously didn’t know what the hell he was doing at first.  Just took it and showed Sacha how to get him off and how to use the knife, which were the same thing sometimes.

Sacha couldn’t avoid Eight forever, though, as much as he tried to stay out of his way.  Eight would be able to see right through him, and then Sacha would have Six, Seven, Eight and Two out for him if they weren’t all talking about how to gut him already.

He saw Six and Eight and some other fuckers sitting outside the barracks together, no other reason for Sacha to be there except to be going to the barracks and no way to just turn around without looking like a fucking coward, so he kept walking.  Kept his head up and watched them without looking at them, tense and ready to get jumped, but nothing else he could do besides wait for it.

“ _Fifty_ ,” Eight snapped as he went by, and Sacha heard him get up when he didn’t stop.  “You fucking look at me when I’m talking to you, you little cocksucker,” Eight said to his back.  Sacha pushed through the door, fingering the knife in his sleeve Thirty had given him.

“Have you gone fucking deaf, Fifty?  Every fucking time I see you you’re with that little shit Thirty.  You sneaking around because you’re afraid to get caught at something?” Eight said, following him in.

Sacha stopped then, keeping his face blank and turning to look Eight in the eye.  “Go fuck yourself, Eight,” he said slowly.  “It’s not your goddamn business anymore what I do.”

Eight ground his jaw.  “It’s my fucking business so long as I say it is.  What the fuck were you doing in the showers the other night?”

Sacha glanced at the closed door.  Of course Six had spread it around, no point in doing it if no one knew about it.  No point in doing it if Eight didn’t know about it.

“Nothing happened,” Sacha lied, hating himself for giving a damn what Eight thought about him anymore.

“No?”

“No.”

“Then why the fuck is Six going around telling everyone how you begged him and Two to fuck you?  Why the fuck am I hearing you’ve been getting on your knees for One and Fifteen and everyone else?  Why _the fuck_ ” Eight said, hauling him up by his collar and throwing him against the wall, “am I bothering to do _anything_ for a fucking _whore_?”

“Like you’ve ever done anything besides fuck me,” Sacha spat, not giving a damn anymore.  Eight could and probably would beat the shit out of him, but Sacha would put up a fight this time even if it meant getting dropped back to the bottom of the rankings.  It’d be worth it just to finally show Eight he wasn’t a fucking coward, that he could stand up to anyone, even Six, even him.  

Eight saw it in his face, though, had always been able to see right through him, because he pushed Sacha away, sending him stumbling against a bed, barely keeping his balance, fucking humiliated as Eight watched him catch himself.

“We’ll see if One can keep you from getting sent back to the colonies, because I don’t fuck sluts.  Hope you get it hard from Six next time,” Eight said over his shoulder as he started to leave.

Sacha launched himself at Eight, but got backhanded against the wall, just like the first time.  Eight would always be too fast for him, and Sacha would never be able to cut him like he was going to do Six.  Eight left him there crumpled against the wall, gone before Sacha could push himself up.  He could hear Six and the rest of the fuckers laughing through the door.

When Sacha and Thirty finally got him, Six bled out slower than he’d thought, Thirty standing there looking sick.  Six’s blood spread all over the concrete floor, a huge pool of it creeping closer to their boots.  Thirty edged back from it, but Sacha just looked down at his dark reflection in it as it got closer.


End file.
